Turning takes time
Going around quickly — fun! Stopping quickly or suddenly changing direction? Disaster. (Image by Thierry Milherou)
My CFO (me) was legitimately concerned about how much of our retained earnings we chewed through in April.
Reason number one: There were five Fridays in April, so there were five payrolls. That’s a real budget killer!
Reason number two: I owed some taxes. Good old April.
Reason number three: Well, I’m in the middle of closing a business. We aren’t taking any new customers, but we still have all of our expenses.
What’s more, one of the key reasons for closing the business is that the numbers don’t work. April 2022 was just more evidence of that.
My business is like a freight train — it can’t make a sudden stop. It has all kinds of momentum behind it. I am still playing through the consequences of choices that I made last month, last quarter, last year, and every previous year.
I have to take all of this into account when considering our progress. Otherwise, it can be really discouraging to think we haven’t gotten anywhere after months of effort.
Though the CFO’s report is something to take seriously, I have to remember that we’re still following through with our plan. Like that freight train, we first have to slow, then we can stop. And turning around is a whole ‘nother story.
The process of closing down this school is very expensive, but in the long run, it’s cheaper than not closing it. It’s similar to being upside down on a car loan. If I owe more than the car is worth, I may think that it’s not worth it to sell the car. I’d have to write a check to the lender in order to sell it. However, I should still sell the car if the payments are too much for me to comfortably afford.
Short-term pain for long-term gain. It’s a classic case of “things will get worse before they get better.”
When it comes to the school I’m closing, there are so many factors to consider. I can’t be sure that I’m making the best possible choice because I can’t predict the future.
Therefore, since I can’t be certain, telling the story like this is a reasonable way to rationalize my current experience. Believing that we’re in the midst of a difficult turnaround feels a lot better than believing that things are hopeless. If I believe that things will get better, I won’t give up until that happens.
Maybe the school is a freight train. Perhaps it’s an ocean liner executing a wide and unwieldy turn. Or maybe it’s actually a rocket hurtling rapidly toward the surface of the earth where it will explode. I can choose the metaphor that’s the most helpful (probably not the last one) and stay focused on doing the things that need to be done.
In the past, I haven’t always been the best steward of my resources. I’ve stood by watching things fall apart in slow motion while I failed to act. I’ve hoped and prayed that things would get better, and they didn’t. I’ve abandoned ship more than once.
Here, I am making the best decisions I can make based on the data I have. I am seeing things through even when it’s hard. Even when it seems like we’re headed in the wrong direction, I have to remind myself that that alone is not necessarily evidence that the problems are compounding. I’ve applied the emergency brake. Or turned the ship hard a-starboard. Or released the parachute. Or whatever. I’m doing what needs to be done. It may still not be enough, but it’s what I can do now. And hopefully, I’ve headed off disaster.
